


An Autumn Knight's Quest

by 10redplums



Series: fairy court adventures [1]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Prins Lindorm | King Lindworm (Fairy Tale), Tam Lin (Traditional Ballad)
Genre: Animal Transformation, Canon-Typical Violence, Fairy Tale Elements, Gen, M/M, Partial Nudity, Suggestive Themes, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:42:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24926347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/10redplums/pseuds/10redplums
Summary: "It can't be that easy," Tryn says."Nothing is easy."-A man's trip through fairyland to try and get his friends back!
Relationships: Tryn & Vy, Tryn/Ian
Series: fairy court adventures [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1803916
Comments: 2





	1. Hold Me Tight, and Fear Me Not

“It can’t be that easy,” Tryn says. His sovereign laughs, a soft exhale from their nose. Their hand ceaselessly strokes the hair of the man whose head is on their lap.

“Nothing is easy,” they say. “But know that I speak true.”

He nods.

“What will you do?” they say, tilting their head.

“I would do anyt-” they press a hand over his mouth, their eyes glittering and their lips stretching in a grin.

“You have learned nothing,” they say. They look him in the face before turning away, cocking their head. “We have guests. Go, my knight.”

He goes.

Pull her off her horse. Hold her tight, hold her close. Do not be afraid.

Easy.

When Cass passes through the autumn court they have Vy and Ian with them, and Tryn’s heart aches but he hides it behind his helmet. His sovereign gives him leave to go with them after pulling him aside for some last advice. As they pass through the winter court Ian and some of Cass’s other companions are called away on business of their own. It’s better this way. He focuses on drinking in the sight of Vy as she is, gold and blue the likes of which the king here can never have. She smiles at him as she catches him looking and he turns away, pretending to be shy.

One night as they near the edges of the winter court and Vy starts to get that distracted look in her eyes, Tryn pulls Cass aside.

“I need to ask you something,” he says. “A favor.”

“What will you give me for it?” they say, grinning. The cold air makes a fog of their breath and he wonders if they’d always had eyes like molten gold. He grips their shoulder and they turn serious.

“This isn’t a joke,” he says. “I’ll do-” the word  _ anything _ dies in his throat. “I’ll think of something.”

“It’s fine,” they say, waving their hand. “Tell me what it is, first.”

He looks around, leaning in close. Under the cover of their cloaks he spells out what he needs on their hands, and they bite their lip trying not to laugh at the proximity and the sensation.

“I need-” his hand squeezes theirs briefly and he tells them what he’s going to do- “Need your protection from outside. Will be dangerous. Long. Must have no interruptions.” His hand clenches around theirs at  _ no _ , as if to emphasize his point.

They look up from their joined hands to stare at him.

“Well,” they say, “that certainly is a thing.”

“Will you do it?” he says, not letting go of their hands. They sigh and close their eyes.

“What do I have to lose?” they say. Their head snaps up to meet his gaze and their eyes glitter in the moonlight. “We’ll work out the terms of your payment if we survive.” They soften and smile at him. “Nothing crazy. We’ve been here too long.”

He nods at them.

Cass goes and pays their required obeisance to the spring court’s regent twins, and updates them on the search. The two laugh off their carefully-worded apologies, invite them to the hunt, don’t think anything of it when Cass politely turns them down.

He lies under a weeping willow, listening to the stream. Cass's taken their boots off and dunked their feet in the water. The iron rings on their toes flash in the sunlight when they raise their legs, looking at how wrinkly they’ve gotten, before dropping them back in the water. They lie back on the grass, hands on their stomach, tilting back to rest on the top of their head and look at Tryn.

“The hunt is in a few hours,” they say. He nods, the motion barely visible from their position. He stares up at the branches of the willow for a while longer before sitting up and taking his things out.

“It’s the parade after that I want,” he says. He looks at his knives and bites his lip. “Can I count on you for this?”

They twist so they’re on their side, propped up on one elbow. The toes of one foot dangle in the water. The sunlight is bright on their body, glimmering off the silver threads in their clothes, and their gaze burns but he doesn't look away.

“You,” they say, getting up and taking his hand. In thieves’ cant, they press words to his palms that make him look up at them, staring in disbelief.

“You- you shouldn’t say things like that here,” He says. They give him a crooked, terrible grin, lifting their chin to look down at him, and they take their hands back.

“I didn’t say anything,” they tell him.

Pull her off her horse. Hold her tight, hold her close. Do not be afraid.

When the time comes, he waits in the bushes with Cass as the twins and their courtiers pass. Vy is at the end of the train, resplendent in her hunting clothes. She looks older like this, taller, perhaps more beautiful, to someone who doesn’t know, but her eyes are the same. Cass catches her eye and she splits off, riding to them. They squeeze his shoulder and go past her, a warhorse and a hawk appearing as they draw their sword.

“Hi, Tom!” she says to him. His hands clench at his sides but he shoves the feeling aside. He has to focus. She comes to a stop, turning her horse sideways. “Did you want something?”

In a flash he’s there, cutting the belt of her saddle and grabbing of her what he can reach and pulling her down. She topples into his arms with a gasp and he crushes her to his chest, wrapping an arm around her waist and pressing her head to his shoulder. Nothing happens for a moment, and he wonders if it worked, and then-

She writhes, her body shaking out into an enormous green snake. Her horse whinnies and gallops off, and he hears Cass shout something at their own steed. If anybody’s approaching, he can’t hear them. He holds on.

She turns into a wolf, snarling and snapping. He holds on, wrapping his legs around her waist. Her breath is hot and her fur is coarse, and he holds on.

She turns into a bear, massive and heavy enough to force the breath from his lungs. His arms can’t wrap all the way around her like this, but he grips her fur and hangs on and he prays.

She turns into a lion, her tail lashing wildly. She roars, the air ringing with the force of it.

“Vy, it’s me,” he says, pressing his face to her shoulder. “Vy, please.  _ Please. _ ”

She turns into a flaming sword. The fire licks at his face and clothes but don’t burn. Dimly, he hears Cass shout again. The flames crackle and almost drown out the sound of silver ringing against steel.

She turns into Vy, in his arms, naked and shivering. He strokes her hair, pressing his cheek against the side of her head, and whispers reassurances. A hawk screams, above them.

“I’m here,” he says. “I’ve got you.”

“Tryn,” she mouths against his neck.

“I’m here.”


	2. Lindworm, Shed Thy Skin

Cass gives them time to themselves, standing stock still with one hand on their horse’s flank as they survey the land from above, as he and Vy cry into each other’s shoulders. He lends her his spare clothes, after, covering her with his cloak, and as they get up from the grass Cass comes back to themself.

There’s a streak of someone else’s blood across their face and more on their boots and clothes, and an unglamoured corpse behind them. They wipe their sword on the grass and then with a soft cloth before approaching them; there’s a little blood on their teeth, too, which Tryn sees when they smile.

“Good job, Janet,” Cass says to Tryn. He tilts his head at them and they wave a hand. “Nothing. You two ready to go?” Vy and Tryn nod at them and they call the hawk back, letting it rest on their arm. They offer the horse for Vy to ride and she accepts, and they leave for the summer court. The twins wave at them as they pass.

Ian greets them, as they enter the summer court. He emerges from the wall of roses, as he always does, and Tryn has to hold himself back from stepping forward to brush stray petals from his shoulders.

“Tom,” he says. “Back so soon?” he adds, walking up close to Tryn. Tryn glances back; Cass has a hand on Vy’s shoulder. Tryn looks up, pressing close until they’re almost touching. Ian raises an eyebrow at him, intrigued.

“I missed you too much,” Tryn says, grinning and looking up at Ian through his eyelashes. Ian grins back and looms over him, tilting Tryn’s head up with a hand under his chin.

“Well,” he says. “I’m here. You must see my queen,-” his mouth twists into a little moue, before he smiles again- “but maybe I’ll see you after?”

Tryn puts a hand on his chest. “I’d like that,” he says, before laughing and pushing Ian away. Ian winks at him before nodding his head at Cass and Vy, and he turns to lead them into the court.

Tryn slumps, half-turning to Vy. He lets her put a hand on his shoulder, and he turns to Cass. There’s a distant look on their face and they have one arm bent out, waiting for their hawk. He presses his fingers to their hand and pulls them along.

“I’m here,” they say. The hawk alights on their arm and they stroke its head briefly before dismissing it, and they turn to Tryn. “You look like shit.”

“I feel like shit,” he says. They pat him on the shoulder and let him pet their horse.

The queen is the same. Cass gives her an update on how their quest is progressing, and then is given leave to roam her domain. They lean on Tryn, after, pressing a hand to their chest and breathing out a sigh of relief.

“Dangerous,” they press against his hand, grinning.

“They all are,” he says. They nod at him, and then turn to Vy. They brush their hand against hers, asking for permission, and when she gives it they grin harder and hold it all the way until they get to an inn. They set up, Cass winding silver thread around the room, and with that complete they drop their things on the bed and ask him what he needs because Cass has, as they have helpfully informed him, no intention of doing anything else until his quest is complete.

They wind up spending the afternoon collecting the materials the autumn sovereign named because this time, there’s a more involved process than simply lying there and holding someone through a series of transformations. Cass gives a soft laugh at the sight of him in ten pure white shifts, when they come in bearing as many birch rods as they can carry. There’s a young boy following them, bearing two large tubs. A transaction occurs. When the hour draws near, the tubs are filled. Tryn waits outside their door, until Ian arrives.

“Couldn’t wait to see me?” he says, grinning and holding his arm out. Tryn takes it, and presses close to him, and they go down to the tavern on the ground floor.

“I couldn’t stand a moment,” Tryn says. Ian laughs, pleased with his answer.

Dinner is pleasant, all things considered. The food is good, the conversation is light. Tryn’s heart only stings a little. Ian makes no secret of his intentions, holding Tryn’s hand and stroking his fingers as he feeds Tryn dessert. The two of them taste of strawberries, after, as they stumble up the stairs. It’s good that nobody else is going up or down at the same time, because with how often Ian pulls him aside for a kiss they’d draw a lot of ire.

In the semidarkness of their room, Tryn leads him around the obstacles. Ian’s eyes shine as he pushes Tryn down on the bed, and as his shape changes his eyes remain locked on Tryn. He nuzzles into the crook of Tryn’s neck, his breath hot against Tryn’s skin and his length heavy on Tryn’s hips, and his teeth are so sharp.

“Take this off for me,” Ian says, pressing his hands to the first of Tryn’s shifts.

“Take your skin off for me first,” Tryn says. Ian’s shining eyes widen, but he sits back.

“Nobody’s asked me to do that before,” he says.

“I’m asking you to do it now,” Tryn says.

“If that’s what it takes.”

Tryn wonders about his words, as they undress. Has nobody wanted him, like Tryn has? Has nobody loved him, like Tryn has?

Nobody has loved him like Tryn has.

“Now,” Ian says, with his sharp teeth and his deep voice and his hard body. “Where were we?” His hands meet the next of Tryn’s shifts, and he laughs. “Take this off for me,” he says.

“Take your skin off for me first,” Tryn says.

So it goes, until Tryn is down to his last shift and Ian is shivering and weak and covered in blood. He presses his lips to Tryn’s neck.

“My dear,” he says. “Will you take this off for me?”

“My- my love,” Tryn says. He clutches Ian to him, cutting himself on the edges of his scales. “Will you take your skin off for me first?” His voice doesn’t waver. Ian tears off his own skin and scales and armor, until he’s down to his bare flesh, and Tryn grabs the first of the birch rods.

Tryn breaks all of them, that night, whipping Ian’s writhing form. Someone’s sobs ring through the room and he can’t tell if it’s him or Ian or both of them. Maybe it’s Vy, watching them from her designated spot. When all the birch is gone he staggers under Ian’s weight as he carries him to the baths of lye and milk, and when Tryn’s washed him he dresses him in the discarded shifts and collapses under him on the bed.

In the morning the birch rods, the baths of lye and milk, the shifts, Ian’s shed skins, all of them are still there. Vy sleeps in the opposite bed, protected by Cass’s warm bulk. The latter is awake, and they turn their head to look at him when he stirs.

“Princess?” they say. “Are you alive?”

Ian, his Ian, is asleep in his arms. His skin is gold where the sunlight falls across it, and he wakes slowly. Tryn brushes his hair out of his face.

When their gazes meet Ian’s eyes widen with shock, and he brings a hand up to cup Tryn’s cheek. Tears well up in his eyes and he rolls so he’s on top of Tryn, pressing kisses to his face and sobbing. Tryn holds him, stroking his hair and whispering to him.

“Tryn, Tryn,  _ Tryn, _ ” Ian says against his mouth. He’s gasping, pressed wholly against Tryn and clutching at him as if to never let him go. Unnoticed by both of them, Cass rolls over to face Vy and the wall.

“I’m here,” Tryn says. “I’ve got you.”

“I’m so sorry,” Ian says, kissing him again and again. “I love you.”

“I’m here,” Tryn says.

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm a sucker for fairy tales, and the shape of fairy courts and quests and the power of love an all that, so. Here we are. I wrote this fic in August of 2018 and am only posting it now because I had vague ideas of posting them in an order that would introduce you to the characters in a way that made sense, but. Oh, well.  
> Thanks for reading, please let me know what you thought!


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